


All I Know Is That I'm Lost Whenever You Go

by context_please



Series: A Million Little Pieces - Drabbles for Macx's Pushing Boundaries Series [7]
Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Finally what you've all been waiting for, Gen, I can't leave OCs alone in peace, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, So this is what it feels like, This is a tribute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/context_please/pseuds/context_please
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Grady's cautionary tale.</p><p>A drabble for Macx's Tainted and Threshold Shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Know Is That I'm Lost Whenever You Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Macx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Threshold Shift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242024) by [Macx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx). 
  * Inspired by [Tainted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381008) by [Macx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx). 



> (Thanks for your wonderful comments and support. It means a lot to someone who has never had any readers! So thanks for putting up with me.) Anyway! Onto the show.
> 
> This falls a good twenty years before the events of Tainted, as you may have guessed by the end of this. 
> 
> Subsequently: you should read Tainted and Threshold Shift immediately. Macx is awesome and if you love Jurassic World and psychic bonds why haven't you read it? Also, you will have very little hope of understanding this if you haven't read either of those stories. Sorry!

The cat’s fur is soft on her fingers.

She smiles as he brushes against her. He weaves between her legs, rubbing himself on her calves. He’s completely ruining her black tights, leaving black and white fur clinging to them stubbornly, but she doesn’t care. The cat is wonderfully soft against her fingers and warm against her cold legs, so she reaches down to scoop him up. He doesn’t squirm in her grip like the dog does, and it’s so much easier to hold him to her chest. He nestles into her, watching her face with deep blue eyes. Little black and white paws prick through her Sunday dress, and he’s shedding all over her. But he’s purring under her hands, half-lidded eyes the colour of the endless sky, so she doesn’t really worry.

His mind is warm and gooey. Nudging her gently, inviting her closer. He greets her with a flick of his ear and a soft mew, purr tripling in intensity. And she just knows he likes the spot right under his chin being rubbed, so she does it. His languid pleasure washes through her, thrillingly relaxed. She laughs delightedly, all light and fluffy. Something lodges in the back of her throat but it doesn’t feel like the time mum and dad made her sit on a chair for an hour after she refused to eat her dinner. Doesn’t burn like that did, doesn’t hurt at all. There’s a cloud at the back of her throat, lifting her higher. Her ribs ache with the effort of keeping her lungs in her body – it’s like she’s a balloon, trying to float into the blue, blue sky and stay there forever.

Her mum’s hand comes to rest softly on her shoulder, curling around the joint. Voice warm and familiar, she says, ‘Come on, honey, we’ll be – what have you got there?’

‘Look, mama!’ she exclaims. ‘I found a kitty!’

Mama smiles all big and happy at her. ‘And what’s his name?’

‘Odd-paw-young-one,’ she says. His chest rumbles at the sound of his name on her lips.

Mum’s expression is strange. Her smile looks not right, a little tightness creeping around her lips. Her eyes are not quite sad – it reminds Sarah of the time she fell off of the playground and cut open her arm. Mum said she would be okay, that it wasn’t a big deal, but her eyes said the opposite. Her forehead has angry-wrinkles in it, and Sarah doesn’t know why they are there. She doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong.

‘That’s a funny name,’ her mum says, watching her like she’s a stranger. ‘Why did you call him that?’

Sarah doesn’t like it. ‘He told me,’ she says, because mama taught her not to lie and she sees no reason to hide this.

Her mum frowns, calls dad. Places both hands on Sarah’s shoulders. Says, ‘Listen to me, Sarah, you’ve got a little talent inside you, and you shouldn’t use it. You can use it later, I promise, but not now.’

It’s too much to process. Odd-paw-young-one rumbles with her distress, digging his claws through the fabric of her Sunday dress and into her skin. Eight little points of pain ache on her chest and her ribs are about to burst.

Dad’s face is in front of her, and he’s not angry or sad or strange. He’s grinning, hands big on her face. She smiles tentatively in reply, and everything eases.

Dad says, ‘Look at my big girl,’ voice full of something happy. ‘Sarah, I have something very important to tell you,’ he whispers, smile still on his face. She leans in. This is just for the two of them. ‘You’re special, honey. When the cat told you his name, he didn’t speak to you with this,’ he pulls his lips into funny shapes and she laughs. ‘He spoke to you with this,’ he says, holding a finger to Sarah’s temple and placing a gentle hand on Odd-paw-young-one’s head. ‘When you were born, God gave you a gift, Sarah. He wants you to speak to animals, to feel them. He wants you to do His work and take care of animals all around the world. Do you think you can do it?’

Sarah nods fervently. If God gave this to her, then she must cherish it, right? And she loves animals. Maybe she should start now. ‘Odd-paw-young-one is lonely,’ she tells her dad, running a hand over the cat’s sides. ‘I should take care of him.’

Dad smiles at her, eyes clear and bright. They’re like the green grass that surrounds her favourite playground. The green of spring. He says, ‘well, we’ll take him home then. You can get started.’

Sarah ignores the funny feeling in her stomach when she looks at her mum. ‘He’d like that,’ she says, not sure whether she’s talking about God or Odd-paw-young-one. It doesn’t really matter – they both like it.

‘Come on,’ her dad says, holding out his hand. She takes it.

 

 

 

 

 

She’s eighteen when her little brother runs up to her, babbling excitedly. She loves him so much – gets a fuzzy feeling in her chest like she does with mum and dad, and she thinks it’s love. Her little brother isn’t annoying. He’s silly, with his games and the funny way he says ‘s’, but he’s always next to her, now. Always by her side, even though he’s ten years younger than her. They come as a set.

‘Calm down,’ Sarah laughs, catching his arms. Reaches absently to the dog nipping at his heels and urges her to calm. A wet nose pushes into her palm.

‘Sarah Sarah! Minnie told me she wants food. She said it in my head and everything! Am I like Superman now?’

She’s not really surprised. She was a year younger when her ability manifested, and it’s about time her brother’s kicked in. He’s always had a knack with animals, calmed them with a touch or stern words and perfectly placed emphasis.

‘Even better,’ she tells him, leaning in. ‘You have a gift.’

‘What gift?’

‘You can help animals, because you can hear them in here,’ she says, brushing her fingertips over his temple. ‘But you have to listen.’

He obviously doesn’t know what to do with the information. ‘Why?’

‘Not everyone can hear them. You have to be their voice. You are their protector.’

Nodding at her, face completely serious, he whispers, ‘I can do that.’

‘I know you can,’ Sarah replies, warmth and light exploding in her chest. ‘I know you can.’

 

 

 

 

She can’t stay away from the animals.

Mum tries to make Sarah into a receptionist, of all things, and Sarah bucks like the stallion she tamed at a farm in Montana. Sarah’s never been able to sit still, and she isn’t likely to even if she has a family. She’s twenty-seven and she doesn’t even want to go there.

So she takes a job at a zoo in Florida, just far enough from her family to stop the incessant worry grating on her nerves. Dad doesn’t smile anymore when she talks about her talent. She doesn’t remember when that happened. But the memory of telling her father about the family structures of hyenas and looking across the table into his stony face will stay with her for a long time. The panic still burns in her chest, beating up against her ribs and battering her lungs. He’d looked like her mother, on the day that seems so long ago, now.

She still doesn’t really understand what the look means.

Sarah wants to stay at the zoo, wants to work with the big predators there. Wants to sit and watch the tigers all day long. But there’s something in her chest, urging her to move. Beneath her skin, crawling and spreading like a disease. She resists as long as possible, starts dating a fellow keeper in the hopes he’ll be able to anchor her there.

In the end, she packs her belongings into a single bag. Barely gives the zoo twenty four hours’ notice. Doesn’t even say goodbye to her boyfriend.

Sarah follows her instincts.

 

 

 

 

She travels the world.

Goes to the far reaches of the globe, spending three years in the wilderness of Africa, one in the arid plains of Australia and five in the biting cold of Siberia. She observes wild animals in their native habitats, connects with the unfettered potential of their minds. It’s fantastic, feeling their freedom. Their killer instinct. The need to hunt, to protect, to mate.

Sarah never stays in one place for long.

 

 

 

 

Her brother finally manages to pin her down when she’s at a zoo in North Carolina.

She has no idea how he knows she’s here, or why he’s still looking for her. She still sends cards at Christmas time, still calls on their birthdays, but she’s not exactly a part of the family anymore. Her throat is suddenly dry as a bone when she thinks it.

‘Grady,’ she says absently into the hotel phone, busy folding her clean shirts into her suitcase.

‘ _Sarah_?’

Her hands freeze. She doesn’t breathe for a moment, totally floored. ‘Hey, little brother,’ she says, voice shaky. ‘How are you doing?’ Her intestines flutter madly.

‘ _Worried, Sarah_ ,’ he says, and since when did he have a resolve of steel? When did he grow up? His voice is deeper than the last time she called, and it hadn’t been that long ago. She’d called for his twenty-seventh birthday, ribbing and teasing. Now he sounds hardy, in control. He is grounded in a way she’s never been.

‘You sound so different,’ she says, not really thinking about the words. She’s spent the last ten years of her life speaking out loud to her charges, soothing them with her voice. She’s so used to their uncomplicated presence she forgets how complex humans are.

Her not-so-little brother sighs. ‘ _You went gallivanting all over the world, Sarah_ ,’ he says, tired. ‘ _And someone had to pick up the pieces_.’

She’s silent. She loves her brother, loves her parents, but she hasn’t done anything wrong. She listens to her instincts, and in her line of work it’s always a good thing.

‘So… not good, then?’

He huffs out a laugh. ‘ _Not really_.’

‘Just hang in there,’ she advises. ‘Something’s gotta give.’

‘ _Yeah_ ,’ he grunts, non-committal. ‘ _Look, I have to go. But I called to ask you to be careful, Sarah. Don’t lose yourself_.’

She smiles into the receiver. ‘I won’t. Don’t worry.’

‘ _I always worry_ ,’ he replies, and the line goes dead in her ear.

She’s standing in the middle of the hotel room, frenetic energy and instinct raging through her, when Nell leans against her doorframe.

‘Never seen you stand still for so long,’ he taunts, but there’s something else beneath it. He’s not talented – probably wishes he is. He’s smart, though. In their line of work, it’s enough. He’s like the tigers she loves: all intelligence and coiled muscles, waiting to strike. Nell is always watchful, always ready. Nothing really surprises him anymore. He's the best friend she’s had in a while. The only one who’s stuck around long enough.

‘My brother called,’ she tells him.

‘He’s just worried about you,’ Nell replies, and he catches on quick – she’ll give him that.

‘Why? I know what I’m doing.’

He takes a step into the room, stretching his shoulders absently while he thinks. ‘You’re unpredictable, Sarah,’ he says slowly. ‘Give the animals all of your attention. It’s intense. We all know what the kid’s on about.’ He looks her in the eye, one of the few not to back down in her presence. ‘Just worried you won’t be you anymore.’

Sarah turns away from him, packs her things. ‘It’s not a problem.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Nell accuses, voice low. ‘Denying it won’t solve anything.’

Sarah’s gut clenches, spine stiff and achy. ‘It will if I try hard enough.’

 

 

 

 

 

After thirty years at the top of her field, they offer her a newborn Siberian Tiger cub at the Hunchun National Siberian Tiger Nature Reserve. She books the first flight to northeastern China.

 

 

 

 

He’s beautiful.

So tiny he can fit in her hands, all light orange flanks and brown stripes and disproportionately large paws. The pink pads are unbelievably soft under her fingers, newly opened eyes so blue she doesn’t know what to do with it. His heartbeat flutters over her skin, lodging in her chest.

His mind is tiny and weak next to hers, but that’s okay. He’s glorious, and he’ll grow.

She names him Ajax.

He puts on weight and bulk so quickly he’s beginning to grow into his gangly limbs by the time she fully comprehends it. His body becomes strong, big; snowy orange fur thick over layers and layers of hard muscle. She trains him in the art of the hunt, is with him every day since his birth. He listens to her, follows her lead.

And his mind grows too.

He was tiny, once, and now he’s huge.

He’s not like normal animals, not to her. She’s known him all his life. Five glorious years. She carved a space for herself in his head and he gave it freely, long rumbling purrs accompanying it. From inside his mind, he’s a vast, open space. Like a mountain range as far as the eye can see – treacherous and deadly, but with so many hidden secrets. She digs herself a little deeper every day, every month, every year, to find what she’s been searching for his entire life. To unravel the final secret, the mystery she’s spent _her_ life chasing.

She reaches as far as she can, but she can’t feel other animals anymore. All she can feel is him, warm and huge against her. She’s not sure when she became the smaller of the two of them, but it sits wrong in her gut. If she even has a gut anymore. She floats into his mind, flying through the mountain range. She falls deeper and deeper. Doesn’t know what a body is anymore. Her mouth is sewn shut. Her mind aches. And it doesn’t at the same time. Sarah isn’t sure what ‘Sarah’ even means anymore, why it was important in the first place. She’s completely untethered, in the skies of his mind, crashing blindly into cliffs and feeling hail pummel her mind. She finds the primal corner of Ajax, all hunting urge and the thrill of the kill. The taste of blood. Flesh sliding down their throat. And oh, it’s so satisfying. Hot. Thick. Chunky. The hunt churns through their body. Head and intestines and kidneys and stomach. Lurch. Lurch. A door. Falling from his mind. So close to the ground, she grabs. Hand burns on the knob and wood splinters.

Flash. Light of brightness eyes blue yellow red green _red_ fangs coat chunky stained. Black.

She opens her eyes, itching for the hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> And finally we learn why it is a bad idea to spend your life deep inside an animal's mind. It's a cautionary tale, my children. 
> 
> (I am delivering, as I promised.)
> 
> What did you think? (I do love reading your comments and replying, so please drop in if you liked it!)
> 
> Title from Ink by Coldplay  
> (ETA: Fixed some timeline indiscretions because I'm an idiot. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, Eneforteon!)


End file.
